Impulse and Adrenaline
by shan14
Summary: Mike's thoughts ever since Kate set foot on the Hammersley


**A/N Gosh! i'm quite nervous about this fic!!  
not only is it my first Sea Patrol story...but the first one on the site!  
Obviously as you can tell i'm a hopeless romantic who really know's nothing about the navy because i'm only 14 ...  
I just love the characters!  
Any problems with details related to Navy ect. I'm very sorry about any spelling mistakes are my own! if you see any let me know. i've read this so many times now but i always miss something**

Anyway's...My little take on what's been running through Mike's mind ever since Kate showed up. Not much mention of Ursula...cause i don't really like her that much Hopefully it's not too out of character...Alot of it is based of the character profile's as well as the episode's we've seen...  
  
**Disclaimer: Don't own any of it...**

He worked on impulse and adrenaline as a child. Climbing trees and breaking bones, riding bikes into poles and grazing knees. As he grew older he liked his sports. Rugby and League in the winter months, when the early morning chill made his whole body ache as his threw life and limb on the line for that one last try. The coming of summer brought the welcomed change of cricket season; early morning's spent out on the pitch that stretched through till the midday sun beat down on his back in the last dying overs. Day's where no one wanted to field because of the suffocating heat yet everyone felt the itch to be playing filled his childhood memories, along with the undying competitiveness that all boy's of his age had; rain, hail or shine. As he grew older he kept his 'win at all cost's' attitude, yet, like with all things, age brought maturity and he learnt the importance of choosing between winning and being part of a team.

He liked action, liked adrenaline rushes and liked being a part of it all but he liked even more the mate's and friends he was making along the way. Despite the competitive rashness he had as a youth his teenage years brought on the responsibility of knowing when too much was at stake, knowing when to step down from a fight and knowing when to think before he leapt. As his leadership role grew into one of importance, he grew with it and tried to push his competitiveness and rashness to the side, instead focussing on the here, now and who of a situation and how to achieve the safest outcome for all.

15 year's, two wine bottles and a motel room later made him realise that the impulsive adrenaline seeking child he thought he had a handle on was still very much a part of him.

"Sir" called someone from behind him, the voice barely registering in his cluttered mind "Sir!" a little louder this time.

"Hmm" he replied, blatantly hoping the feeling's he was feeling weren't showing on his pale face. He turned to the source of the voice. Sure enough it was her, green eyes sparkling against the blonde locks framing her face, wind wisping past her drowning out her words so all he could hear were faint remarks here and there. Surely she must be feeling some of this he thought desperately. Neither had forgotten the 'thing' as she has so eloquently put it, yet neither where willing to make anything more of it, leaving him once more with the nagging feeling that the 'thing' had meant more to him than it had to her. Sure she was young when it happened, still was in fact, but from what he had seen she wasn't the type of person to jump from guy to guy without feeling something about it afterwards. She was either one very good actor or he was grasping at something that wasn't there, because as much as he denied himself any thoughts of her and that first night, he couldn't deny that he hadn't felt anything, or that he still wasn't; especially if his quick bout of internal panic was anything to go by.

Yet here they were 5 years later. Almost two months had past since she had first boarded the Hammersley and nothing more had ever eventuated from their first talk. Both had opted to forget the 'thing' and so far it had worked. Well at least he told himself it was working.

Kate stood calmly in front of him by the water, waiting patiently for proper acknowledgement of her earlier statement, while mentally calculating how soon until she would be wrapped up tightly in her own bed, bottle of wine nearby for another lonely night in front of the box office. She had gotten decidedly better at masking her feelings in front of this man and it had not gone without notice. Not for the first time did Mike find himself wondering how she hid everything so well. For all battle's that were raging inside of him when ever she came within two metres, it seemed to him she was the exact opposite.

"Sir" came the tired call once again, causing him to turn his gaze towards her expectant one finally. Green eyes locked on brown and he was lost again. Drowning without protest in a jumble of past and present emotions wrapped up in the feel of her skin, soft against his own on the standard scratchy motel sheet's, her taste of red wine tinged with sea salt and vanilla lip gloss filled his sense's in an oddly wonderful combination that was solely hers. The dying rays of afternoon sun danced across their entwined bodies as he rolled on top of her, whispering soft words of nonsense in her ear, just to hear her laugh, before pinning her small frame beneath his to capture her lips once more.

He wanted to grab her right there and taste her lips again, wanted to feel her body pressed up against his, perfectly moulded to his side as they had discovered before. He wanted to be the one playing with the hem of her shirt or lock of her hair as they stood side by side watching the sun set, wanted to be the one to follow her home each night to stumble half a sleep into each others arms and wake up groggy but giddy each morning because while it was another day of work they were both there, together.

He had convinced him self it would never work out between them, that their ambitions, jobs and personalities weren't suited. That their age gap or interest's would divide them and their secretive past's would only cause problems. He had been over it in his head time and time again, each scenario ending the same way with them apart. He had gotten himself to the stage where he was convinced he had never felt anything major for her at all. It was just a fling, one night stand multiplied by a few months if you will, nothing that could or would ever eventuate into something worth while or important. And for a while he had believed himself.

But then she had shown up, stood right in front of him and looked him in the face like she was now and he was forced to acknowledge that what he had convinced himself was all bull. Like hell he wanted her, more than that he needed her. Two week's together and he was having trouble staying away from her side. Odd looks and remarks from a few of the men had unsettled him but she was a magnet, and he was being drawn to her by undeniable forces greater than them both and like hell was he going to argue because it was like hell when she wasn't near by.

Somewhere in the tangle of longing looks, snide remarks, awkward silences and charged moments he had realised that this wasn't another case of lust. Yes there was the want for her but the need for her was becoming much greater. The need to be with her beat down on him like bircks, the need to make her grin on days when it was hard to smile became his goal and the feeling of dread when ever she boarded another vessel or some low life looked side ways at her became part of the motions. Chefo's recent engagement had set off a new feeling and what if scenarios plagued his thoughts. What if they hadn't broken up when they had? Would they be engaged now? Married? Would they have a family?

As he lay in bed at night he imagined what it might be like. They wouldn't be working together anymore. Kate might be making her way up through the ranks on land and he'd be out in his new Patrol Boat, memories of the Hammersley keeping him grounded. He'd take as much leave as he could to be with her. Maybe they'd have kids. A brown haired boy to play footy with and a blonde haired girl the spitting image of her mother in looks and personality. No doubt she'd have her daddy wrapped around her little finger. They weren't the picket fence type of people but he wouldn't mind a dog. They'd live happily ever after but that would only be in bed time land because that's the only time they were real, when he was asleep.

He heard Swain and Buffer talking once a few weeks ago, just before the dream's started. Swain had had a close call, to close in Mike's opinion and obviously the young man felt the same way.

"If it was your last day on earth, who would you spend it with?" asked Swain. Buffer had only shrugged, his search for that 'special some one' was still in motion. "Let me guess you'd spend it with your wife" he teased, knowing fully well he was correct.

Swain grinned in acknowledgment. "You know, I can't imagine what it would be like to go any other way" he murmured through the silence. "Without her it wouldn't be right"

The two men clinked beers in agreement, before downing the last few drops and walking away. "Let's hope you get your wish then" muttered Buffer, though all three men knew fully well the chances of it that not happening where higher than most.

Their conversation had gotten Mike thinking. If he only had one more day left who would he want to spend it with? A quick over view of his life returned no one. He seemed doomed to a lonely existence and a lonely demise and that scared the hell out of him.

He'd felt a presence beside him on deck and turned to see Kate standing next to him, cheeks flushed red from the bitter wind's that made the few strands of her untucked hair swirl around her face.

"You ready?" she'd asked simply and suddenly he knew that if she ever asked him that again he'd follow her to the ends of the earth. He felt physically warmer with her by his side, emotionally content to just watch her face, her eyes, nose, mouth. The lust of their last affair was stronger than ever, but other feelings were nestling in on its territory. If this had been his last day on earth he would have been quite happy to stay right where he was, Kate standing closer than usual because of the cold wind, so that if he reached his arm a little to the right he could wrap it around her, pull her to his side and kiss her hair softly, whisper words of nonsense in her ear and hear her laugh once again.

He's resolution had then become to control this till they were on shore once more and now here they were. He was dressed in a dark short sleeved shirt and jeans, her in white three quarter pants and a light sleeveless top, hair out and shining in the sun. She was standing in front of him; unconsciously a little closer than the last time they were on shore. Her patience was beginning to run a little thin though, Mike had been off in his own world lately. She was almost terrified that Ursula was beginning to steal him away from her, despite that fact she knew she didn't own him and never would.

"What are you doing tonight?" asked Mike suddenly, shocking both of them out of silence. With their history that question would never be an innocent one, both knowing the implication's of what could eventuate.  
"Nothing, not really" choked out Kate, finding a voice that sounded uncharacteristically unlike her own. "I think I'm just going to go home and crash" she added in on an after thought, realising how open her last answer had sounded. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Mike's reaction. She could have sworn his face fell a little, though she would never be sure.

"Well then" he replied "If you feel like some company just call on me" he said, smiling gallantly and tipping his head slightly. Kate's heart jumped a little as her breathing quickened and she bit down on her lip. If she hadn't known better she would say Mike Flynn was flirting with her, even more terrifying her mouth seemed to be working of its own accord and she was flirting back.

"Will there be wine involved?" she asked smartly, twisting a strand of hair behind her ear. Mike leaned in towards her, closer if that were possible. "Of course" he grinned, wondering when exactly they had ever flirted, but not really minding either way. Both stood silent for a moment, collecting thoughts and emotions to figure out what exactly was happening. What would happen if Mike did go to her house tonight? Would it really be that bad?

Kate broke their gaze, looking down at her feet instead "Maybe another time sailor" she laughed warmly, pulling back slightly as she gathered her scattered thoughts. As much as she wanted to feel his salty lips, her hands wrapped up in his hair, his skin against hers once more she couldn't, not yet at least. Mike's knowing gaze met hers in silent recognition. Both understood where the other was coming from, and both knew that they'd be going home alone that night. But a line had been crossed, somewhere between drowning in thoughts and promises of wine. They would have to face it soon. Face what had been acknowledged and laid out on the table.

Mike's lips curled up in a half smile "X" he nodded towards Kate in good bye. An awkward silence followed as she gazed at him a moment later, causing him to call upon all his will power to not drown in her gaze again.

"Sir" smiled Kate moments later, breaking the gaze and returning the nod. Both turned away from each other. Mike back to the Hammersley to grapple with what exactly he had just done and Kate towards her house, ready for a night of red wine and vanilla ice cream. Suddenly a romantic comedy sounded appealing to her and she reminded her self to pick on up on the way.

As Mike took the first steps onto the Hammersley he turned once more to watch Kate, her soft steps along the sandy shoreline, golden hair whipping wind, no doubt green eyes sparkling and cheeks blushed from what had just happened. A grin wormed it self onto his face before he took the rest of the steps onto his beloved ship.

While something had happened that had been building up for five years.

That night would continue on like all others.


End file.
